Would it be to much of a spoiler to ask what was going on in Begbie's head when Danny told him he wasn't a proof or a buftie? Was he too far gone to have a mental/emotional reaction to "I've got you love"?
He couldn’t stop the shaking of every muscle of his body. It felt good, after weeks, to be inside Devine again. It felt fucking incredible, in fact. But Devine hadn’t let him turn him over. He had made him fuck him face-to-face like… like fucking lovers. Like fucking poofs. Begbie’s stomach churned at the thought.
“Fuckin’ relax,” Devine murmured to him. He was gripping the back of Begbie’s neck and pulling his face closer to his own. Begbie resisted the pull, his hips still pushing frantically against Danny’s. He felt trapped between his great need to fuck Devine and his great need to escape. Franco lifted his head, his hair falling across his face and into his eyes. He looked at Danny through the dark locks of his hair. Devine’s face was twisting in pleasure and pain. His expression pulled at something deep in Begbie’s groin. It was an expression he had never seen on the cunt’s face before Never seen on any cunt’s face. He all at once looked more at peace and more conflicted than Franco had ever seen him.
“Fuckin’ relax, Franco,” Devine said again, his voice barely a whisper now between groans. Devine tilted his head enough to bring their lips together briefly. It didn’t last long enough for Begbie. His eyes fluttered closed until he felt Devine pull away. He tried to catch Devine’s lower lip between his teeth, trying to keep him from pulling his mouth away, but it was too late. “I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you. The words echoed in his mind over and over again. Last night had been the first time he had felt like he could trust Devine. In fact, it had been the first time in a lifetime that he’d felt like he could fucking trust any cunt. Devine asked him for more trust and Begbie… Begbie wanted to give it to him, but… he couldn’t fucking let himself. Could he? Devine wasn’t to be trusted.
Begbie shifted his knees backwards, pulling Devine’s hips further forward on the bed so that he could lie back. All the while, he continued to relentlessly fuck Devine. In. Out. In. Out. Over and over. He could fucking do this. He could fuck Devine senseless no matter how the dippet cunt wanted to be fucked.
His head was down again, looking down at where their hips joined, but not really seeing. He couldn’t look Devine in the face again. He… he had to stop seeing this fucking wee pooftah. After this, he was done. Fucking done. He couldn’t fucking do this anymore. It was disgusting. It was fucking unnatural. But… fuck! It felt so fucking good. His hands were still gripping Devine’s hips, gripping so hard, holding on for dear life for fear that if he let go his need to flee may overcome him. He hesitated, his fingers digging into Devine’s skin to try and stop the shaking. His thrusting slowed and he let out a low growl of determination.
“Franco….” Danny grunted. Begbie looked up at the sound of his name. He saw Danny reach a hand out to brush the hair from Begbie’s eyes, felt him run his fingers through the partially oiled mass of black. They made eye contact and Begbie saw an expression on Danny that he couldn’t comprehend. He had seen similar looks before, years ago. June had looked at him like that, once upon a time. Begbie froze, his whole body trembling. What was it that he saw in Devine’s gaze that made him want to live for tomorrow, when he was already scheming for the best way to do himself in. His eyes searched Danny’s desperately, trying to understand.
“I’ve got you, love,” Danny said. Love? Was that fucking it, then? Did Devine love him? “I’ve fuckin’ got you,” the cunt was saying again. Danny’s eye bore into him, and he wished the gadge would look the fuck away. It was throwing him off. He wanted to reach up to turn Danny’s face into the pillow. He wanted to fuck Devine without having to look at him. But that expression on his face. He stared right back into Danny’s eyes, his mind failing to do anything except continue the rhythm of his hips. Finally, he moved, bending down to bring their mouths together again and it was furious and hot. Begbie relaxed to feel the heat of Devine’s gazed off of him for a moment and as he relaxed, he came with a loud groan.
"I’ve got you,” Devine was still saying, his voice barely audible over the sounds of their heavy breathing, as if he knew that Begbie really needed to hear it. He was already regretting everything they had just done, though he didn’t want to regret it. Rage and shame and disgust were building inside of him like a tidal wave, for he knew deep down that this was more than just fucking. He wanted to rip himself apart. He wanted to terrorize the world and make it cease to exist. He wanted to hurt Devine, smash his wee fucking pus in until it wasn’t recognizable. And when the rage subsided again, he needed to know that Devine would still be there when he came back down.
UGH THIS WAS REALLY DIFFICULT I’m not really sure why. I hope it turned out okay…. I’m probably being a perfectionist. I’ll have to come back and re-read it later. I hope this sort of answered your question, though?
